


Bright Lights

by justanotherbusyfangirl



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-01
Updated: 2018-12-01
Packaged: 2019-09-05 07:14:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16805965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justanotherbusyfangirl/pseuds/justanotherbusyfangirl
Summary: The reader is a model and gets paired with teen heartthrob Dean Winchester for a photoshoot.





	Bright Lights

You sat on the comfortable-looking (but not _actually_ comfortable) loveseat, flipping through a magazine like you were reading it. Bright lights were flashing at you every few seconds, as the photographer, Marcus, captured your image from every angle.

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see the door of the studio open, letting in a small posse of people who were ushered toward the makeup mirrors.

Marcus instructed you to put the magazine down and switch positions, so you followed his orders. You contorted your body uncomfortably into the position he wanted, a position that surely looked attractive and sexy from the camera’s perspective, but was actually going to put a crick in your neck.

For an eighteen-year-old, you sure needed more massages and chiropractic appointments than anyone else you knew.

This modeling gig was great, though, as it paid for your schooling, but sometimes it just wiped you out.

Luckily you didn’t have to hold the uncomfortable position for long, and Marcus called for a break. You went to grab a water and some grapes from the snack table, sitting in your chair to the side of the stage.

Your eyes wandered toward the makeup mirrors, wondering who it was that you’d be modeling with for the second half of the shoot. You knew it would be a two-person spread, but the other model wasn’t able to make it on time so they had added in some single shots for you. You couldn’t get a good look at the person, but you think it was a guy.

Whatever, you could pose with anyone – it was just pictures.

Short break over, you were ushered to the wardrobe corner of the room, sliding behind the vanity screen and letting a couple PA’s change your clothes. The first few times you did this, you were nervous about their hands being on you, but you’d gotten used to it over the past year. 

They dressed you in a fancy designer outfit, fitted to your body and not leaving much for the imagination. You had been hired based on your tall and thin, but muscular physique, and they often dressed you in clothes that showed off your body type, especially your freakishly long legs. They liked that they didn’t have to photoshop your legs to look longer.

From behind the screen, you could hear the makeup artists trying to get the other model to sit still. You tried not to eavesdrop, but couldn’t help but overhear –

“Can you please act appropriately – do you know just how many of your fuck ups I’ve had to cover up last week?”

You snorted to yourself, the PA’s hiding smiled behind their hands as well. Some people in the business were more drama than they were worth, and you were glad that you stayed out of it all.

Dressed and ready, you walked back to the stage, seeing that they had replaced the uncomfortable couch (thank _God_ ) with a fake metal fence. You wondered what Marcus had in mind, but knew you’d do whatever he asked – as long as you didn’t have to straddle that thing, that is.

You leaned against it, Marcus taking a few shots of you to check the lighting. Finally your partner stepped onto the stage, and your breath hitched.

Your partner was Dean Winchester. _The_ Dean Winchester. Teen heartthrob and daytime-tv star _Dean Winchester_.

No wonder his manager had been fussing at him – Dean was all over the tabloids, _all the time_.

You watched as Dean sauntered over to you – blatantly eyeing you up and down. You swallowed deeply, suddenly nervous for the photo-shoot. 

“Hey sweetheart,” Dean growled at you, oozing charm and making your face flush. You gave him a half-smile in return, but were saved from replying as Marcus guided the two of you to your first pose.

Easy enough, you stood in front of the fence and leaned against it as Dean stood behind it, arms on either side of you. The awkward part was that you had to look at each other, and Dean did his best to make you squirm.

First it was the winks he would throw your way in between camera flashes. Then he’d lick his lips enticingly, drawing your gaze to follow the path his tongue made. He leaned forward enough that his chest was against your back, and you could feel the vibrations when he chuckled at your awkwardness.

Before you got too embarrassed, the two of you were whisked away and re-dressed, this time in jeans and somewhat-matching button ups. Now your prop was a tandem bike, which almost had you falling over a few times. 

Dean took this pose a little more seriously, seeing as if one of you fell, both of you fell. There were only a couple near-falls, but one of them ended with both of Dean’s hands holding tight on your hips, keeping you upright. You thanked him quickly before repositioning yourself.

Another outfit, another pose. This kept going for an hour or more – you lost track of time with every brush of Dean’s body against yours. You’d think that the more you touched, the less your face would heat up, but it seemed the opposite. The more times something happened, the harder it was to listen to Marcus’s instructions and the deeper into a fantasy your head spun…Dean holding you against him…no audience surrounding you…maybe _he_ could be the one to help you take your clothes off, not those PA’s…

You had to snap out of it if you were ever going to get through this shoot.

Finally the last round of poses came up: the eveningwear looks. You were dressed in a dark purple, and Dean was in smart black from head to toe. You loved the outfit they had you in, it was slimming and beautiful, made of a very soft material that you couldn’t stop yourself from touching.

It was the set of the scene that made you stop dead in your tracks. 

The bright white background that you had been using for the other shots was replaced with a smooth black, and in the center of the stage was a black velvet chaise lounge. Your mind went to awful places when you saw Dean walking toward it from the other side of the room, and all you could think about was him laying you atop the lounge, having his way with you as you stripped him from his suit piece by piece.

You shook your head, forcing your mind into a place of nonchalance. Just a few more poses and you’d be done with the most intense photo-shoot you’d ever been a part of.

It started off easy. Marcus had you sit sideways on the lounge, leaning against the back as Dean stood behind you and “Gazed at you longingly,” Marcus’s words, not yours. It was fine until Dean leaned down to whisper in your ear.

“You look incredible in that color, Y/N.”

You shivered at the feeling of his breath on your neck, but kept your face as neutral as possible.

Next, Dean sat on the lounge as well, and the two of you leaned over each other’s laps, Dean with his back to the camera. Your eyes were on his face the entire time, watching him watch you. You held your breath when he lifted his finger to caress your face, Marcus working with the natural movement and capturing the gesture on film. Dean smiled softly, which you couldn’t help but return.

The last pose was what got you. You were laid on the chaise, one arm draped above your head and the other resting on your stomach. Dean sat next to you, leaning his body over yours. 

You knew that the position he was in couldn’t be comfortable to hold, and it was only after a couple flashes of the camera that Dean’s arm moved to support his body weight by resting on yours above your head, threading your fingers together smoothly.

Your faces were only a few inches apart, as this was supposed to be the most seductive of all the poses. You were so close that you could easily study the green flecks in Dean’s eyes, see the brushing of freckles across his nose that weren’t quite covered up by the makeup he was wearing. 

You knew he was studying your face as closely as you were his, and the knowledge of it had your cheeks heating in arousal. He may have noticed, because his tongue darted from his mouth to moisten his lips, a movement that your eyes followed closely.

You may have heard Marcus shouting out instructions, maybe Dean’s agent saying something to him, but you couldn’t hear past the rushing in your ears. All you knew was that Dean’s free hand came up to cup your face, and in an instant his mouth was on yours. 

Your eyes closed as you melted into the kiss, squeezing his fingers between yours and letting his tongue into your mouth once it asked for permission. Dean tasted like mint and chocolate, and you couldn’t get enough of it. The two of you kissed for a moment, getting lost in the feelings before Dean was roughly yanked away.

“Seriously, boy! Keep your damn paws to yourself! I don’t have time to cover up more of your drama!” Dean’s agent had been the one to pull him away, and was now reprimanding him a hundred miles a minute. You were in shock, but your eyes hadn’t left his, as Dean wouldn’t look away from you while his manager was yelling. Something was said about “ruining the shoot” and “needing to not piss off another person in Hollywood”, but when you sat up, Marcus came over.

“Listen, Monsieur Manager,” Marcus said, letting it known that the manager was being annoying. “I don’t know what _you_ were watching, but that was great for me and great for the camera. Get off my set.”

Dean’s manager looked completely put off, and Dean was grinning. His manager stomped away, and Marcus politely ushered Dean back to the lounge, where you were still sitting.

“Listen kids, I don’t know what’s goin’ on here, but I ain’t stopping it,” he said. “All I’ll say is, Dean – take this beautiful model out for a cuppa coffee or something when we’re done here, cause _damn!_ ”

With that, you and Dean were back in position, small smiles on your lips. The lights began flashing again, and Dean spoke to you quietly, so that no one else in the room could hear.

“So, coffee?”

You studied his face. “I drink coffee, yes,” you replied cheekily, earning a toothy grin from Dean. You could get used to that.

“With me?” Dean asked.

You paused, enjoying watching Dean squirm. “Sure, Dean.”

You were in for a wild ride.


End file.
